


When Your Logic Fails

by MildSweet



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 17:04:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MildSweet/pseuds/MildSweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There is no reasoning in reincarnation, but in that moment you believe in being born again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Your Logic Fails

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AxolotlQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxolotlQueen/gifts).



> i wrote smut. i am publishing smut. i have no fear of death.
> 
> (but actually thanks to user catsielnya. i hope you like smut because this is totally your fault ??????)

Your logic fails as an empire falls.

You watch the numbers reflected on his glasses as everything resets, you feel your lips and you feel his lips. You two will argue for years before you realize it doesn’t matter who kissed first. You will argue about it anyway.

There is no reasoning in reincarnation, but in that moment you believe in being born again.

He leads you away from the pandemonium and into an empty corridor. You can’t tell the time, but it must be dawn, want for him heady like the first breath above water, natural like the first breath after waking.

Your logic fails as you enter your room, the one he’s never seen from inside, and he kisses you so thoroughly that neither of you remembers who shut the door. It doesn’t matter, really. At first nobody looks through opened doors at the end of an era, they only see the one that shuts behind them-

It doesn’t matter, really, and you don’t think about it because your logic fails as you land on the bed with him. You think instead how lovely he looks with his t-shirt riding up his chest, your hands tracing lines that don’t need marking on his tattooed skin. You mark the edges of him with kisses.

You notice an ache in your leg but it doesn’t compare to the ache in your chest, the one that doesn’t sting so much as permeate, and you realize that you are speaking in unbroken thoughts right until the moment that you taste instead of speak. Now he is speaking and that quick lilting voice is soft and needy and breaking and you want to make him whole, because he’s breathing empty air when he should breathe _you_ instead.

He says he needs, he wants, he needs, he’s going to, he’s going to-

Your logic fails as he does what he’s promised, and he is lying on your bed, moaning your name. You’ve never seen anything more beautiful, and when he’s finished you tell him that.

He kisses you so fast you’re spinning, and that must explain why you’re on your back now, pants halfway undone around your ankles, gasping into his mouth because his _hands_ , his _fingertips_ -

Your logic fails when he kisses your cheek and tells you what he thinks of you, and you come, his name your mantra, meaning on the tip of your tongue, and suddenly he is what you meant when you talked about meaning to do things and not making time.

It seems your logic failed, because now you have all the time in the world.


End file.
